To the Edge of Night
by VeritaParlata
Summary: Peyton Sawyer returns home after four years with a terrible secret.
1. Prologue: Lost Girl

To the Edge of Night 

Rating: Mature  
Characters/Pairings: Peyton, Peyton/Lucas/Lindsey  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from _One Tree Hill_.  
Spoilers: None. Span of season 5 but is AU.  
Author's Note: I know, I know. Another story that is not _Wedding In Vegas_. I know. I honestly don't know what's wrong with me...lol. This is... I don't know. Something that just came to me. I don't know how long it will be... yet. Maybe epic, maybe not. As always, I hope you enjoy.

Premise: Peyton Sawyer returns home after four years with a terrible secret. One that will definitely turn her life, and the lives of her friends, upside down.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Prologue: _Lost Girl_

The night air was chilly in Los Angeles, and the stars began to twinkle against the purplish-blue sky. From the window of her apartment, Peyton Sawyer could see clear to downtown LA. It was her favorite view of the city. From this high and this far away, LA looked serene. Like a melting pot of cultures and wits under strobe lights. Nothing like the uneasy jungle she knew it to be. The jungle she often found herself lost in on a daily basis.

She stared out the window for a moment longer, her green eyes watching the purple and blue hue of the sky intermingling to create a perfect night shade, before moving from the window seat to put a CD in the player. A few seconds later, Lucas Scott's voice washed over her.

She listened to the audio of his book almost every night as a way to feel close to him. She hadn't seen him in three years. Not since the night he came to LA and proposed to her. She told him that she wanted to marry him someday and he took it as a harsh rejection. She didn't even feel him kiss her goodbye the next morning before he slipped away.

He'd broken her heart and her spirit, but she continued on the best way she knew how. Throwing herself into her work paid off in the end. She was promoted to Vice President of Marketing at the music label she worked for. It was quite an accomplishment for someone as young as she, but Peyton never let it go to her head. Honestly, she couldn't feel proud about it even if she wanted to. Her job was a crutch. A device she used to fill the void that Lucas left. He wasn't her entire world, but he was a huge portion of it and losing him felt like losing a part of herself.

While she filled her days with work, she filled her nights with clubs, alcohol and sex. Yet, none of it could ever quite compare to the feelings of peace being with Lucas provided her. None of it recaptured the person she wanted to be. Nor did it recapture the person she was.

Peyton hit the stop button on the CD gently. She felt sick to her stomach and tiny beads of sweat prickled along her skin, giving off a sheen against the dim lights in her apartment. She closed her eyes, willing the churning of her stomach to cease. Finally, her queasiness subsided and she headed to the bathroom for a shower.

- - - - - - - - - -

A barrage of images played behind her closed eyes as the hot water washed over her. Her time in high school, her best friend Brooke Davis, Lucas, Nathan Scott and his wife Haley. She thought about her friends in LA and the good times she had before that fateful night… the night in the club she met him.

"_Hi, I'm Andrew," the blue-eyed man said. Peyton smiled, happy that he'd finally come over. They'd been eyeing each other all night and sending drinks back and forth. She thought he was much more handsome up close._

_She extended her hand and smiled charmingly. "I'm Peyton."_

After she finished her shower, she felt a bit better than before and returned to her seat by the window. The sky was a deep, dark color now and the stars twinkled like diamonds. She smiled softly to herself, thinking on the better times to come.

Peyton pushed the dial button on her phone and hit a speed dial button then waited.

"Hello," Brooke Davis' voice sounded oddly dejected when she answered.

"Hi," Peyton greeted her, trying to keep the same sentiment out of her voice. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Brooke said, and Peyton knew it was a lie.

"You can't lie to me, Brooke Davis."

Peyton could hear her sighing through the line. "It's nothing really. It's just my mother. The company. The celebrity."

"You love your fashion company, Brooke," Peyton reminded her. "It's everything you've ever wanted."

"Yeah," Brooke agreed. "For all the good it's doing me." She sighed again. "How are you?"

It was Peyton's turn to sigh. "I quit my job, Brooke."

Silence.

"What?" Brooke asked, clearly shocked. "Why? What's going on, Peyton?" Peyton could tell she was worried now.

"I…" she didn't know how to clearly express what she was feeling without making Brooke feel worse. "I… need to go home, Brooke. I can't explain it to you any better than I could explain it to my boss, but…" her voice cracked slightly with emotion. "I'm so tired, Brooke and I'm lonely. I miss you -"

"I miss you, too, Peyton."

"-and my Dad. I just need to do something different. Something…"

"I understand," Brooke said, and Peyton knew she did. They were silent for a moment. "What time is your flight to Tree Hill?"

"Ten tomorrow morning," Peyton replied while wiping the tears from her eyes. "Thank you for understanding, Brooke."

"Of course, honey. I think a vacation is just what we need."

"Brooke, no, you have a life in New York. A company that needs you. Not to mention a mother who would hunt you down like a dog," Peyton said, trying to protest her best friend's plan to uproot her life.

"None of that is as important as you, P. Sawyer," Brooke assured her. "Don't worry about the company or Victoria, I'll deal with them. I want to be there for you. I need to do something different for a change, too."

"Thank you," Peyton whispered, her voice could go no higher.

"Are you going to tell him?" Brooke asked after a long moment.

"Who?"

She heard Brooke scoff lightly. "Don't kid me, P. Sawyer, you know who. Lucas."

Peyton thought on that for a long moment quietly. She figured Brooke probably thought she wouldn't get an answer, but it wasn't the easiest answer to give. She and Lucas hadn't seen each other or spoken in years and she couldn't imagine her news would change anything between them. She didn't really want it to, anyway. She really just wanted to be surrounded by people who loved her…

"Yes," Peyton answered finally. "He deserves to know."


	2. Chapter 1: Ill fated Returns

Chapter I: _Ill-fated Returns_

_Peyton dropped her keys on the table by the door and pulled Andrew, Andy as he liked to be called, close against her body. The door closed behind him and she pressed him back against while kissing him passionately._

_They tugged at each other's clothing, somehow finding their way to her bedroom while still entangled. They crashed onto her bed with wide smiles and looks of unbridled lust._

"_So," Andy began looking up at Peyton. "How does this work?"_

_Peyton unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and tossed it aside. While straddling his waist, she leaned down with a seductive but cold smile. "We enjoy tonight and never see each other again. If you can't do that, maybe you should leave now." _

_She stilled the hands that had been undoing his jeans and started to move away from him but he stopped her._

"_That's fine with me," he replied._

_Peyton smiled and resumed her task of trying to fill the void with no-strings attached sex. She leaned closer and kissed him; taking note before closing her eyes, that Andy's eyes were not the same clear blue as Lucas'._

It was a hot day in Tree Hill when Peyton Sawyer returned home. The sun hung right in the middle of the sky with very few clouds in the sky. She watched the sky from behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses waiting for Brooke's plane to land, wondering why the sky seemed brighter here in Tree Hill than in LA.

She loved LA, and would miss it terribly, but nothing compared to Tree Hill. No feelings of loss could compare to the adventurous feelings of embarking on a new journey. Nothing could erase her past… she could only make the future brighter.

"Well, if it isn't Peyton Sawyer, big time music executive," she heard a raspy voice behind her and turned around slowly with a smile. Brooke stood behind her looking as chic as ever with an equally large grin. "Aren't you personally and solely responsibly for four of the acts currently rounding out the top 5 on Billboard?"

Peyton feigned disinterest. "Yes, yes, that's me." Her grin grew. "Aren't you, Brooke Davis, the head of a multi-million dollar fashion company that is changing the face of the fashion industry?"

Brooke also feigned disinterest. "Yes."

They laughed and rushed to each other, wrapping each other in a tight embrace. This was the first time the best friends have seen each other in months but it felt like an eternity had passed between then and now.

Brooke was the first to pull away. Just far enough to look at Peyton while still holding on to her. "You look good, P. Sawyer," she observed with tears in her eyes.

Peyton nodded with a smile. "So do you, Brooke."

They stayed that way for just a moment more. Neither woman wanting to break the embrace, but neither speaking the words they truly wanted to say. "Come on," Peyton said finally. "Let's get out of here." She moved to Brooke's side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "The last thing you need is some crazy paparazzi snapping pictures of you hugging another woman. Can't you just see the headline: 'Fashionista in secret love affair with another woman?'"

Brooke frowned slightly. "Can you imagine Victoria's face when she sees the picture?"

Peyton winced. "How did Mommy Dearest take the news of your vacation?"

A positively wicked grin crossed Brooke's red lips. "I didn't tell her."

Peyton shook her head as they headed for the door. "She's going to hunt you down like a dog."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Peyton and Brooke sat in a restaurant on the waterfront nearly four hours after their return home. She planned to buy a house from a woman who was currently selling it but Brooke beat her too it. The brunette told her to consider it a really big birthday present.

Apparently, Brooke told the woman she would pay her more money if she were out in an hour and could leave all the furniture. Peyton had to admire her best friend. When Brooke Davis wanted something….

They talked for hours while calling various assistants and friends to have their things shipped to Tree Hill. Peyton adamantly tried to convince Brooke to return to New York, to go on with the life that she had created, but Brooke would have none of it. She told Peyton that as long as she was in Tree Hill, she wasn't going anywhere.

Peyton stopped arguing after that. Brooke was just as stubborn as always.

"So," Brooke began to Peyton after the waiter took their order and left. "What's next in this big master plan?"

"I'm thinking of starting my own label," Peyton answered after sipping her water. She saw Brooke's eyes light up at the prospect. "It's just a thought, Brooke. I'm not certain that I want to do that yet."

"Why not?" Brooke asked. "You'd be great at it, Peyton. It's what you've always wanted."

"Yeah," she said dejectedly. "I wanted a lot of things four years ago that I'll never have now."

"Peyton," Brooke reached over and touched her hand gently. She didn't know what to say that wouldn't patronize her friend, nor could she find the words to ease her pain. "How are you feeling… really?"

"I'm tired," Peyton answered. "I was sick last night but felt fine this morning. You know… some days are better than others." She smiled as best and as warmly as she could. "Today's a good day. It's a great day."

Brooke nodded silently. Observing how thin Peyton had got since the last time she saw her. Her green eyes shined brightly against her olive skin, a reflection of the blonde's determination.

"What did Jeff say when you told him you were leaving?"

"He told me that as long as I follow protocol, I'll be fine." She saw the look Brooke gave her and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I've been following protocol."

Brooke sighed with relief, but not much. The waiter placed their plates in front of them and she waited until he left before speaking again. "Do you want to go around and see everyone today?"

"Everyone like?" Peyton asked, she hitched an eyebrow. Brooke had an agenda and made no moves to conceal it.

"Haley, Nathan and Jamie. I really want to see how Nathan is getting on after his accident," Brooke answered innocently.

Peyton felt bad for their old friend. Nathan Scott was injured in a bar fight a few months ago was paralyzed. They were told he was doing much better now… whether he could see it or not. Maybe she could be some help to him now.

"Then there is Mouth and Skills," Brooke continued down the 'must see' list.

"And Lucas…" Peyton supplied, knowing that was truly who Brooke wanted to mention. "Brooke, I'm not going to search him out."

"I'm not saying that," Brooke defended. "I'm not saying that we'll stop eating and run to him…unless of course you think it'd do some good?" Peyton shook her head. "I didn't think so. All I'm saying is make it a point to let him know you're in town before someone else tells him. Don't want him to think you're avoiding him."

"I don't… really care what Lucas thinks, Brooke. Or how he finds out that I'm in town. I mean, it's not like he told me he was going to leave me in a hotel room." Peyton sipped her water slowly. Her heart rated increased thinking about how much that hurt and she felt as though the rough beats would break her chest.

"Boys are stupid," Brooke said. "Even more so when their feelings are hurt."

Peyton didn't have a chance to respond. A short brunette walking with a taller, slender brunette and a small blond child came upon their table.

"Oh. My. God." Haley James-Scott said, her gaze going back and forth between her two old friends.

Brooke and Peyton smiled, Peyton in spite of herself, and they all stood and greeted each other.

"When did you guys get back?" Haley asked.

"Today," Brooke replied.

"For how long?"

"Indefinitely," Peyton answered, eyeing the other woman. She seemed to be staring at Peyton uncomfortably. They recognized each other.

Haley caught sight of this and flustered. "Oh, I'm sorry. Brooke, Peyton… this is Lindsey Strauss. Lucas' editor." That wasn't all she was, Peyton knew. Haley picked Jamie up in her arms and introduced him as well.

They exchanged pleasantries for a few more moments before Haley, Jamie and Lindsey were seated at their table. Brooke and Peyton sat down and resumed their lunches. They ate in silence for a long while.

"Guess we don't have to worry about Lucas knowing you're in town anymore." Brooke said.

Peyton rolled her eyes. She had more things to worry about than Lucas.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The night sky was far more beautiful in Tree Hill than it was in LA. Standing on the River court, Peyton couldn't help but look up at the thousands of stars that littered the sky. They were so big and bright; Peyton wanted to reach out and touch them, to capture one or write her name across the sky with them.

She looked down at the names, her name and the names of all her friends, which they spray-painted four years ago. The lettering was faded but she could make it out. It seemed like many lifetimes ago to her now. She touched her name with a sad smile before standing.

She turned to leave and found Lucas standing behind her. Both pairs of eyes grew wide with shock. Haley obviously didn't get a chance to tell Lucas she was back in town.

"Lucas," Peyton breathed out his name. All the anger and hurt of that night in LA and the morning after faded away at the sight of him. Disappearing like a puff of smoke revealing the true beat of her heart. She started to rush to him for an embrace but he stepped back.

"I'm with someone now," he said quietly.

Peyton's smile faltered. He couldn't even say hello to her after all this time. "I know. I saw her this afternoon. She's beautiful."

Lucas wasn't sure if it were the sound of her heart beating loudly or that of his own that drowned out every other sound but her voice. Seeing her again, all long legs and tanned arms, made him ache for years past. Made him remember what it was like falling in love with her the first time. However, the memory of her turning down his proposal accompanied the good memories.

"What are you doing here?" he asked finally.

"I moved back home," she answered, noting how distant he tried to remain. "With Brooke."

Lucas shook his head. He couldn't believe this. Couldn't believe that she was standing before him after three years. Couldn't believe that she would just suddenly turn up when he finally moved past all the hurt and anger. When he was finally happy with someone else.

"Why did you come back, Peyton?" he asked, his anger getting the best of him. The anger he'd held on to for three years.

"I just…" she looked confused.

"No, I mean now. Why now? Why after all this time? Why after everything did you come back to town… now!"

"Not because of you if that's what you're thinking," she told him, her green eyes burning with a furious blaze. She looked at him and scoffed. "You do think that, you arrogant bastard!" Lucas looked hurt, but Peyton continued. "My world doesn't revolve around you, Lucas Scott."

"Obviously," he said.

"Oh, no. You do not get to play victim for walking out and leaving me in a hotel room. You couldn't even say goodbye to me!"

"I asked you to marry me and you said no, what was I supposed to do?"

"Wait!" she yelled. Her stomach churned and she felt sick, but her anger kept it at bay. She started to sweat and her breathing grew shallow. "You could have at least said goodbye."

Lucas stood there silently. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know if his anger had subsided enough for him to speak again at all.

"I didn't come here to fight with you," she whispered. "I am glad you're here now though. I have something to say."

He didn't know what urged him to want to know what she had to say, only that it was the most propelling urge he had ever experienced.

"Like I said, I didn't come home for you," a tear slipped down her cheek. "I came home…" her voice trailed off when images of the life she wanted with Lucas played before her eyes. Their wedding, the birth of their children, their growing old together. A bitter and powerful sob escaped her lips as the realization of never having those things set in once more. "I'm sick, Lucas."

Lucas did step close to her then. He reached out to touch her but it was she who stepped back this time. She held up a hand to stop him from advancing further. "I'm really sick." She could feel the nausea in the pit of her stomach. It buckled her knees but she forced herself to stand. She forced herself to be brave.

"I can take you home. Where are you staying?"

"No," she choked out and forced her eyes to meet his. "I'm dying, Lucas," she admitted softly. Lucas looked as though all the wind had been knocked from him. Before her eyes, played their past, the good and the bad, and the things yet to come. She needed to tell him some other things as well. Things he really needs to know. But she had to start with this. "I came home to die."


	3. Chapter 2: Into the Light

Chapter II: _Into the Light_

Time seemed to stand still as Peyton stood face to face with the man she has loved for a number of years now. Lucas Scott's blue eyes, full of shock and tears, searched her face for any indication that she didn't mean what she'd just told him. Peyton wished she could tell him otherwise, but sadly…

"Lucas?" her voice was as soft as a whisper and Lucas barely heard her over the beating of his own heart.

He couldn't believe her. Didn't _want _to believe her. She was standing right there in front of him, for the first time in years, and…

"No," he whispered, so softly he barely heard it himself. _No, she can't be…_ "Dying?" he repeated. Tears spilled from his blue eyes and slipped down his unshaven cheeks. He fought every urge in his body to reach out and touch her. Every urge to grab and hold her close until this horrible moment faded away into a cloud of smoke. He felt sick in his stomach. "How?" he forced himself to ask, he had to know. His mouth contorted into a petulant scowl as the anger and sadness built within.

Peyton sighed, shrugging her shoulders tiredly, and turned away from him to climb up onto the table. She sat and faced him again, her hands clasped tightly together upon her lap. "Best to start at the beginning," she told him and patted the spot next to her, beckoning him to sit and listen to her story. Lucas was far too numb to move, he could barely feel the wind against his skin; he shook his head instead. "I was so angry at you when you left LA that I started to throw myself into my work. I worked and worked - barely slept or ate - but it wasn't enough to fill the void. It wasn't…" she closed her eyes briefly, hoping to will away the tears that threatened to fall.

"It wasn't easy for me either, Peyton," Lucas defended. "It was really hard losing you. Really hard to let you go."

"I know," she said softly. Her green eyes clouded with tears as she stared up at him. "About a month after you left, I'd worked myself into exhaustion. I collapsed at work and was rushed to the hospital where the doctor…" her voice cracked under the emotional strain. "…the doctor told me I had a miscarriage."

Peyton forced herself to keep her eyes on Lucas. He stared at her in disbelief and looked like he wanted to vomit. He blinked slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, and plopped down on the bench of the table. His back was to her, so she couldn't see his face, but Peyton knew he was crying.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling compelled to ease his suffering as if that would ease her own.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lucas asked, unable to face her. Unable to stop the tears that streamed from his eyes.

"I wanted to. I was going to."

"When, Peyton?" He asked harshly; he did look at her now, blue eyes full of anger and sadness. "We haven't spoken in three years! When were you ever going to tell me?"

"I was going to tell you when you called me for the book signing in LA," she told him quietly. She understood his anger at the situation.

A look of quiet shock washed over Lucas' face. "You weren't there that day."

"Yes, I was," she revealed with a sad smile. "I came. We hadn't talked in a while and I was going to tell you about the baby," she assured him with a nod. She wiped away the tear diligently before continuing. "I was so proud of you. And even though we were broken up, I knew…" she shook her head. "When I got there I saw you with Lindsey. I figured you two were together…and you were. I couldn't tell you about the baby then. I couldn't even face you."

Lucas closed his eyes tightly, trying to regain some of his composure. It was a losing battle since his heart continued to break into thousands of pieces. He sat there quietly waiting for Peyton to finish, but wholly unsure whether he wanted to know the rest or not.

"After the baby… working wasn't enough to fill the void anymore. I started to drink heavily. And when that didn't work… I used sex." Her reddened eyes filled with more tears. "I met this guy in a bar and took him home." _Hello, I'm Andrew._ "He was HIV positive."

Lucas' eyes grew wide with fright. He wanted to speak to her, to say anything...something, but his mind ceased to cooperate. He could only stare at her. Could only see before him the love of his life…

"I have AIDS, Lucas."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lucas Scott remembered the first time he ever saw Peyton Sawyer. All skinny arms and a tangled mess of hair. Her green eyes called to him even at a young age. When he was in eighth grade, he made a prediction that he would marry Peyton some day.

Funny how dreams fade away.

He swallowed hard, trying to digest the words she'd just said. Trying to wrap his mind around the concept of never seeing those green eyes again. Of never seeing her smile at him, so full of life and joy, the way she did a few minutes ago.

He felt dizzy.

Words flooded his mind - of comfort, forgiveness, anger and sorrow - but he couldn't speak any of them. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest, so hard he though it would break, and he cried. Unashamed tears of love for the girl of his dreams.

_She can't die_, he thought desperately.

"You… medication. There is medication to prolong this. Medi- something," he said, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms. "You can fight this, Peyton."

"No, I can't," she told him, gently shaking her head.

"Yes, _yes_, you can. You're Peyton Sawyer… We can fly to New York for specialists. I'm sure Brooke…" he continued his protest, unable and unwilling to listen to her the many time she tried to interrupt him.

"Lucas!" she yelled finally, her green eyes set with determination. "I've tried that," she told him a bit softer. "When I told Brooke, she flew out and both of us spend an obscene amount of money on various doctors to find out if there was anything that could be done." He looked so hopeful she hated to continue, but he needed to accept reality just as she and Brooke had to. "But they all said the same thing. It wasn't caught in time. It… the disease has progressed too far. I'm on a medicine protocol but that is only for pain and nausea. It won't prevent or prolong the inevitable."

Lucas shook his head, unable to relinquish the hope that they could find a way.

Peyton sighed heavily as she watched the hope fading away from his eyes. "I'm not mad anymore, Luke. I'm not bitter. I've just… accepted it."

"Why?" he asked incredulous. "How can you accept your death, Peyton?"

"Because there is nothing else to do _but_ accept it. I'm too tired and too sick to fight this any longer. I came back home to maybe find something worth living for in the time that I have left. I came home to find peace… to leave my mark on the world. I can't do that if I'm angry and bitter all the time."

Lucas shook his head once more. "I can't accept your death, Peyton. I won't."

"I don't want that, Lucas. I do not want you, Brooke, my dad, or anyone else to live with my disease. I'm the only one who has to do that. It's my burden to bear for the mistakes that I have made and I will do that alone. All I want from you… all I want _for_ you is happiness. I want you to be happy, Lucas. With writing, with Lindsey and with your own life." She smiled at him sweetly. "Promise me, you'll do that. Promise me that you will not live a life full of mistakes and regrets. That you'll find something worth living for."

Lucas stared into her green eyes silently, unable to say the words she wanted to hear, unwilling to say that he would accept her death. Images of her from the past filled his mind. Happier times of years past…and some not so happy… but he couldn't imagine a world without her in it. Even though they hadn't spoken for three years, in the back of his mind he knew she was in LA and would come home eventually.

_How could he let her go…_

They stared at each other a moment longer, both pair of eyes pleading with the other, until Lucas finally gave in to her demand.

_He couldn't…_

"I promise."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lucas arrived home many hours after he intended. He stayed at the River court for a long time after Peyton left to go home. He tried to make sense of all that had happened today. How the day started off so normal and ended up being one of the worst days of his life.

His girlfriend Lindsey hadn't notice the change in his demeanor and he was thankful. He wouldn't know how to explain his mood. _I saw Peyton and she told me that she was pregnant with and lost our baby. Oh, and she's dying…_

"Lucas?" Lindsey's voice jarred his thoughts. She touched his shoulder and smiled down into his face. "Are you okay?"

_No. _"Yeah," he lied. "Fine. Just tired. It's been a long day."

"Oh, I forgot to mention it - Haley and I ran into Peyton and Brooke today at _The Château_," she revealed, her face taking on a wholly different expression but Lucas was too preoccupied to notice. Just the mention of Peyton's name stirred many feelings within him. Their conversation at the River court played in his mind and blocked out Lindsey's chatter.

_Dying. Peyton Sawyer is… dying._

He couldn't accept that no matter how hard he tried.

"Luke?" Lindsey touched him this time as her voice was not enough to bring his attention back. "Are you sure you're alright?"

He needed time to think. Time to be alone with his thoughts and feelings and try to compose them… to make sense of them somehow.

"Yeah," he lied again. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked were you coming to bed?" she repeated for him, her head tilted to the side to get a proper view of his face.

"No," he answered slowly. "I think I might write for a while," he added, his mind never straying from Peyton.

Lindsey smiled pleasantly at him. "That's great, Luke," she said and headed off down the hall to his bedroom.

Lucas opened his laptop to a blank page and began to write with Peyton's words in mind.

…_find something worth living for…_

His fingers typed furiously the words his mouth could not say. Words of love and regret…

'_There once was a boy who saw a comet…'_

- - - - - - - - - - - -

**Author's Note: **I know there are some people who are probably upset with me for making it AIDS, but as I was telling one reader: I have never (and I could be wrong) remember the TH gang mentioning, being worried about or even being tested for STDs with as many multiple and shared sexual partners as they all have had. That's not real life to me. Actions have consequences. Even though you're upset at the disease and/or her dying, I hope you continue to read and allow me the chance to entertain you. Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 3: In Between What You Are

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay. I was torn about how I wanted this chapter to begin and to end. Then I was torn on everything else. I'm not completely sold on this chapter, but it will have to do as I do not have the time (or patience) to rewrite it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter III: _In Between What You Are and All You Will Be_

It was late the next morning when Lucas arrived at Peyton and Brooke's new house. Lindsey was already gone to set up her new office with Haley by the time he woke up. Not that he slept much last night anyway. His dreams had been undoubtedly cruel, and he had awakened many times in a cold sweat.

He knocked on the door firmly and waited, trying to formulate some reason to be at their home this early. He had no idea what he would say if Peyton opened the door (nothing that didn't revolve around her death) and his mind couldn't conjure a single reason. Even if he could think of something, he was certain his eyes would betray him.

He didn't have to worry about it any longer when Brooke opened the door. The look of initial shock at the sight of him transformed into happiness. She gave him a warm smile and stepped a bit outside the door to hug him.

"Come in, come in," she told him happily and pulled him inside before shutting the door behind them. She leaned against the door with her arms crossed over her chest, head tilted to the side in an effort to check him out. "You look good, Luke," said Brooke with a contented smile.

Lucas smiled as best he could. "Thanks. So do you." He tossed a glance over his shoulder under the pretense of looking at the house.

Brooke noticed how he kept looking over his shoulder and smirked. "She's not here," the fashionista told him. "She left early this morning."

Lucas couldn't hide the feeling of relief that washed over him. "I wasn't looking for Peyton," he lied and had Brooke making a face at him. He sighed. "I guess she told you that she and I talked last night?"

Brooke nodded, her eyes downcast briefly. "I'm sorry, Lucas," she told him, and she truly was. "I know…" her eyes closed briefly, trying to find the words of comfort he so desperately needed to hear. Trying to find something - _anything_... She opened her eyes slowly and was met with his equally sad expression. "…I know."

At the softly mixed expression of guilt, sadness and determination upon Brooke's face, the feelings Lucas tried so very hard to keep in check spilled out of him. "There has to be something we can do, Brooke."

"Lucas-" Peyton told her how Lucas went off on a tangent last night. Hoping to find a way to prolong the inevitable. Brooke thought it was noble of Lucas, if not a bit foolhardy, to want to be her savior after all this time. She laughed softly though she hadn't meant to. "She told me how adamant you were." Brooke looked up into his face, wondering if that soft flicker of hope would fade from his eyes as it had hers. "There is nothing that can be done. Nothing that hasn't been tried before anyway."

Lucas shook his head vigorously. His blue eyes, so full of unspeakable fear and remorse, welled with tears he dared not let fall. "I can't accept that. I can't accept Peyton's death and I don't know how she, or you, for that matter can!" He was angry now and that anger was directed at the wrong person. But since she was there… "You're her best friend!"

He ended his statement chiding her and that had Brooke narrowing her eyes at him. How dare he? "How dare you?" she asked aloud, her voice soft but cold. "How dare you come in to our home and criticize the decisions that she and I have made when _you_ haven't even picked up the damn phone to _call_ the girl in the last three years?"

Lucas looked mortified. He hadn't meant to offend her, he certainly didn't mean to imply that she didn't do all she could for Peyton. "Brooke…"

She shook her head, unwilling to listen to his half-hearted apology. "I was there," she began, her arms crossed over her chest and a heated look in her eyes. "From the moment she called - _crying_ at the hospital - after finding out about the baby. I was there. I was there eight months later when she found out she'd contracted HIV." Lucas stared at her, tears falling down his cheeks steadily as she continued unfettered. "And I was there six months after that when the doctor told her that the disease had progressed into AIDS."

If ever there was a moment Lucas wished he could take back what he said - or simply disappear - this was it. Brooke had lethally stripped away his righteous indignation and she seemed to have no intentions of stopping.

"You want to know what I did for her?" she question, though it was rhetorical. Her eyes burned with angry tears of pent up rage and frustrations. "I held her head when she couldn't keep her food down from all the nausea and pain of the disease eating away at her body. I sat with her in the hospital and watched as something as simple as a _cold_ wreaked havoc on her."

Her eyes grew soft and cloudy, as if she could see the things happening right before her.

"I watched as her father held her close when she told him she was going to die. I watched her give up all hope… and then stand up and _fight_ for her life. I watched her find something to live for again."

Inexplicably, Brooke laughed. Tears streamed down her face in a rush, but her smile went unaltered. She moved to counter in the kitchen area. Lucas watched, unsure of what to do or say (not that Brooke would have allowed him to do either), and moved closer to see what she was doing. She'd opened the cabinet above her head and pulled down five medicine bottles.

"I know you think she's given up on her life, but she hasn't. This," she gestured to the bottles on the granite counter. "is her medicine protocol. She takes these five different pills twice a day - _every_ day. If she were to miss one single pill, just one…" she shook her head, unable to finish the sentence. Lucas understood without another word spoken. "She's not giving up, Luke. She came home to do something different. Something worthwhile. Maybe start a new label… or something else. Something so the world doesn't forget that Peyton Sawyer was here. She wants to leave her mark on the world."

The notion seemed unfathomable to Lucas: the world forgetting Peyton Sawyer was there. She has left a mark on the world. _His_ world. With every smile, every soft breath and every look she has made an impact on his world. His world was better for having Peyton Sawyer in it.

"I'm sorry," he said to Brooke after a while. They had fallen into a somber silence that allowed Lucas to clearly see the error of his ways. "I never meant to imply that you hadn't done anything for her. I never…" he didn't finish the sentence; couldn't honestly find the words to do so.

Brooke nodded her acceptance of his apology. She understood what he was feeling; she has felt something akin to it herself many times. "You're looking at things the wrong way," she said finally. Lucas furrowed his brow but kept listening. "You're trying to save her life… but it has been. She's not bitter, angry, or sad. She's not out looking for a miracle cure and depending on false hope - which is the worst thing she could do. She's not lost, Lucas."

He seemed to understand that, albeit reluctantly. He still wasn't certain he could accept her impending demise but he wouldn't (couldn't) undermine the peace of mind she's found.

"What can I do?" he asked, his voice soft and low.

"Help her make her dreams come true," Brooke answered honestly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Peyton hated hospitals. She's developed a keen dislike for them over the past three years and it manifested every time she had to set foot in on. The clean, white halls and the smell of disinfectant were frequent upon her nightmares. She decided long ago (some months after finding out how far her disease had progressed) that she didn't want to die in a hospital. She wanted to be at home, in her bed, surrounded by her belongings and hopefully people who loved her.

She walked quickly from the elevator to the nurses' station in the opposite corner and was greeted with a smile from the older woman. "Hi," she greeted the older woman. "I'm looking for Dr. Barton's office."

"Down the hall to the left," the woman responded. Peyton gave her a smile and wandered off in the correct direction. She was immensely thankful that the woman didn't look at her with disgust like some nurses in the hospital in LA did. She was sure the woman knew why she wanted to see Dr. Barton.

She found it just where the woman said. The open door lead into a small waiting area with another nurse/receptionist seated against the opposite wall. She, too, was older and Peyton hoped just as nice. There was no one in the office, save for the two of them, and she looked up as soon as Peyton entered the room.

"Hello," she said cheerily. "How may I help you?"

Peyton smiled, a sense of relief washing over her. "I'm Peyton Sawyer. I have an appointment with Dr. Barton."

"Go right in. She's expecting you."

Peyton nodded quickly and muttered a thank you to the woman before disappearing behind the wall into the office of North Carolina's leading virologist. She tapped lightly on the door before walking inside. A tall, redheaded woman stood just beside the door.

"Dr. Barton?" Peyton questioned. The woman nodded slightly. "I'm Peyton."

"Come in, I was expecting you." They both moved further inside the room. The doctor sitting behind her desk and Peyton in front of it. "What can I do for you?" she asked the blonde with a smile.

"Dr. Jeff Webber said you were the best virologist on the east coast. He said I should come and see you straight away."

The woman smiled and nodded again. "Jeff is an old friend and colleague. He's transferred your files over to me and given me the specifics of your case. I agree with his diagnosis and the protocol he's put you on." She hitched an eyebrow.

"Yes," Peyton answered the unasked question. "I'm taking my medication twice a day as instructed."

"Good. I see no reason you can't live your days healthy and happy." She looked over Peyton's face and saw something in the blonde's eyes. "But you knew that, too. So… why did you come to me, Peyton? Besides the obvious."

Peyton sighed heavily and shrugged helplessly. "I guess I just want to know my… limitations… before I decide to do anything."

"Things like what?" the doctor wanted to know, eager to find the reason for Peyton's urgency.

"Anything really. Starting a new job…"

"Peyton," she began. "You know very well the things you can do. Your body knows its limitations far better than I do. Your disease will not hinder you from doing the things you want to do."

"I know," Peyton replied softly. "I know. I'm just… I feel stuck. I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of a maze and I can't find my way out."

The doctor nodded sagely. The majority of her terminally ill patients felt that way at some point or another. "Stuck between all that you are and all that you will be."

"Something like that," Peyton agreed. "I want to do something meaningful with the time I have left. I just want to know if I'll be able to."

"Yes," Dr. Barton answered unabashedly. "You will leave your mark on this world, I'm sure of it. Just like I'm sure you'll find your way."

Peyton left the doctor's office feeling better than she has in days.

She'd just stepped off the elevator on the ground floor when she bumped into a familiar frame. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry," she muttered before looking up into a familiar face. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her pink lips. "Nathan," she said softly.

"Hello, Peyton," he greeted her.

Peyton took note of the longer hair and goatee. He was standing, albeit with a cane, but that was a vast improvement over the situation she'd heard he was in a few months ago. Still, through all he'd overcome, a look of undeniable sorrow filled his gaze.

She stepped around him to give him access to the elevator but he was headed to the front entrance as well.

"It's really good to see you, Nate," she told him as they began to walk. "You look well."

Nathan didn't respond. Only scoffed lightly and Peyton knew all too well. He needed to talk. "If you don't have anywhere to be… would you like to go and get some coffee? Catch up a bit?"

Nathan was quiet for a long while, so long that Peyton wasn't sure he would answer her at all. He searched her eyes, seemingly searching for the pity that must have always filled everyone's when they looked at him and the thoughts that must have accompanied: _Oh, look, there's Nathan Scott. Former star basketball player headed for greatness. Such a shame._

Peyton's eyes held hope though. Hope for him… and maybe even herself.

Nathan must have seen this because he nodded, gave a half smile and agreed. "Yeah. I'd really like that."


	5. Chapter 4: The Lovers We Left Behind

**Author's Note:** Am so very sorry for the delay. I'm just not enjoying my writing. I've rewritten this particular chapter twice and this (though I do not like this either) is _by far_ the best version of what I want to happen. Perhaps... I am losing my touch? oO Oh, almost forgot... this chapter is _not _Naley friendly. As much as I like the idea of Always & Forever... they _bore_ me to tears.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter IV: _The Lovers We Left Behind_

Lucas arrived at his office later than planned. He'd meant to meet Skills - Antwon 'Skills' Taylor - here an hour ago to go over their strategy for the new basketball season but was sidetracked. The two of them were head and assistant coach of the Tree Hill Raven's basketball team respectively and Lucas had a clear vision for his team. They had not gone to the state championship since he and his friends graduated four years ago, and Lucas felt it was time to change that.

He walked through the door with so many ideas in his mind, but they all faded away as his thoughts reverted to Peyton. He could not, no matter how hard he tried, get her out of his mind. He kept remembering the sheer joy in her smile when she saw him last night… he likened it to her smiling through the pain.

_Like she had so many times before…_

"Please tell me you're in here coming up with a game plan for the new season," Skills was saying as his bounded into Lucas' office. "I really don't want to lose 11-straight again." The other man stared at him curiously and it was all Lucas could do not to cry. "You okay?"

_No. _"Yeah," Lucas lied a little too smoothly.

Skills looked from his solemn face to the blank television screen, then to the empty space on his desk and then finally back to his face. "Uh huh," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He sat down in the chair in front of Lucas' desk and folded his arms across his chest. "You must be thinking about Peyton." Lucas's eyes grew cloudy with emotions before he had a chance to hide them.

"Mm-hmm," Skills voice was full of knowing and a small smirk came to his face. "I knew soon as that girl came back to town, you'd be no good." Skills looked content in his knowledge, while bringing a hand to stroke his bearded chin. "She's still fine… and that LA tan works on those long legs," he rambled mostly to himself and could see Lucas coming unhinged with memories of the past and the future that will never be. "So, what is it, you saw her and all those old feelings came rushing back?"

Lucas gave a long blink, one that clearly stated he was thinking very hard and wasn't particularly paying attention. It took him a moment to answer. "Yes," he breathed out.

"I bet," Skills replied. "You and Peyton had the kind of relationship most people dream about. But it ended. _You_ ended it." He purposely pointed that out to his friend. "And you're good with Lindsey… right?"

"Yeah," Lucas agreed. Skills looked skeptical but didn't voice it. "Lindsey's great, fantastic, wonderful."

"Then why are you so bent out of shape just because Peyton came back?"

"Because…" Lucas wanted to tell Skills about Peyton dying but figured that was something she would need to do herself. He couldn't very well tell him about the baby and the other terrible things he and Peyton said t each other last night either. The pain was still too near. The thought that what happened to Peyton was completely his fault gnawed at the pit of his stomach. "I don't know."

Something in the way Skills looked at him made Lucas think he didn't believe him. "You don't still love her… do you?" Skills asked.

Lucas didn't have a chance to answer when the door to his office opened a bit further and his best friend Haley appeared in the office. Her arms folded across her chest defensively and there was a certain glint in her narrowed gaze.

"Now there's a question that deserves an answer," she said in quiet tones.

Lucas was sure she'd heard, even before she said anything, from the way she looked at him.

"Do you still love Peyton, Lucas?" she asked again, while Skills sat silently awaiting the answer, too.

If ever there was a question that deserved an answer…

Problem was… Lucas didn't know the answer.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Peyton watched Nathan from behind her large shades. The shoulder length hair and goatee made him look like more of a man than the boy she remembered. He had always been handsome… but now he looked… sexy.

Sexy and… sad.

Peyton knew from experience how devastating and tiring it could be to turn your life around after facing tragedy. Though her tragedy was different from Nathan's (and she couldn't possibly know what it felt like to be a prisoner in your own body), she wanted to find a way to help him. Wanted to find a way to let him know he wasn't alone.

But first… she had to get him to talk.

"You look good, Nate," she told him, her green eyes drinking him in behind the dark shades. "The long hair and goatee are seriously doing it for me. Very rockstar." She tried to keep the tone of her voice light and jovial. Hoping that maybe if she teased him a bit, he would let down his guard.

Nathan smirked, not happily or sadly, just a smirk. One to show he was paying attention but was skeptical. Peyton was sure he knew deep inside she meant it as a compliment but the sting of old wounds left him raw and numb.

"I'm serious," she said and laughed softly while taking off her shades. "If you weren't already married…" she began to say but didn't finish when she saw Nathan's jaw tighten with anger. His eyes grew dark and cold, colder than she'd ever seen on Nathan Scott, and she immediately wished she could take back whatever she'd said that offended him. "Nathan… I'm sorry."

He looked at her, long and hard, searching her eyes for the pity he always saw. When he didn't see it there and saw only the sorry for hurting his feeling (though she didn't know she had), he relaxed and felt horrible. She hadn't done anything to him to warrant his anger. Had only wanted to sit down and chat with an old friend. But there was something else. Something in her eyes that seemed familiar.

_Sorrow and loss?_

"Don't worry about it," he told her. "You don't… have to be sorry for me." He shifted his gaze away from her face so she could no longer see his eyes. "I've accepted the fact that I'm…" He couldn't say the word.

"What?" Peyton pressed, leaning forward to get a look at his eyes. After living in LA for four years and living with her disease, she's become good at reading people just from their eyes.

"Nothing," Nathan replied in a quiet and resigned voice.

"What?" Peyton exclaimed, clearly confused. Nathan still wouldn't look at her, but his shoulders slumped forward as if he carried the weight of the world on them. The corner of his mouth was turned down in a petulant frown. He looked so broken. So unlike Nathan Scott. "You're not nothing, Nate. You are Nathan Scott. You're not nothing," she told him as she reached for his hand.

Nathan moved his hand away before she could touch him. He turned his head to look at her and the indignation in his eyes reminded Peyton of the party-boy he used to be. "Please! The name Nathan Scott doesn't mean anything to anyone anymore. All I am is a washed up, would-be-great college basketball player."

"So you can't play basketball anymore. So what! You still have your life and you're not paralyzed anymore! That's something to be proud of, Nathan!"

"You just don't get it, do you, Peyton?" Nathan replied snidely. "You've had the great music career you dreamed of. My dream was ripped away from me! I held it in the palm of my hands and it got ripped away! I've lost everything!"

"You've lost basketball-"

"Everything," Nathan interrupted. "Basketball, the NBA, my dreams, Haley and Jamie. I have nothing."

"What?" Peyton asked, surely she didn't hear that correctly. "What do you mean you've lost Haley and Jamie?"

Silent tears slipped down the young man's cheeks. His eyes had grown cloudy again with pain and emotions that made Peyton want to reach out and hold him. "Haley left me and took Jamie with her. She's living with Lucas and his girlfriend Lindsey."

"When did this happen?" Peyton wanted to know.

"Two months after my accident," Nathan revealed while wiping away tears. He looked again to find the pity in Peyton's eyes but found only shock. "I guess having to help her invalid husband use the bathroom while raising a child wasn't Haley's idea of 'happily ever after'." He seemed so sad now. More than he had before and Peyton reached out to grab his hand and this time, he let her.

Truth was, Nathan Scott missed and needed the company of someone - other than his brother. He and Peyton had been friends once upon a time but their friendship had been reduced to periodic e-mails across time. Having her here, right now, looking at him without pity and showing concern has helped him more than the past few months of physical therapy.

"I'm so sorry, Nathan," Peyton said after they lingered silent for a while. "I know you're probably tired of hearing that, but… I am. I wish… oh, I don't know what I wish," she said and rushed into his arm, rocking them both backward and nearly knocking Nathan on his back. His hands immediately found the small of her back and he held her close to him, breathing in her scent and feeling the warmth of her skin against his.

They stayed that way for a long moment. Long moments as neither wanted to let the other go. Their quietness had given way to tears (from both) and that lead to consoling.

"I'm sorry," Nathan said when she finally pulled back and returned to her seat on the bench. "I didn't mean to ruin your homecoming with my crap life," he told her. She swatted his arm playfully at his comment. "How long are you back for?"

"I'm home to stay," she told him. "Both Brooke and I are."

"Yeah?" he seemed excited at having two of his friends home. He'd missed them terribly.

Peyton nodded. "We wanted to come see you yesterday but Deb said you were at your physical therapy. It's just by chance that I ran into at the hospital."

Nathan's brow creased with curiosity. "I wanted to ask about that but I thought maybe you were just there looking for me after my mom said you dropped by," he began. "But now you say it was just by chance so… what were you doing at the hospital?"

Peyton cursed her big mouth and shook her head. "Long story,"

That look of sorrow was back in her eyes and Nathan really wanted to know now. "I have all day."

Peyton wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him. Of course he, and all their friends, would find out eventually about her disease, but Nathan had enough to deal with. Still, there he was, staring at her intently, waiting for her to begin and willing to listen. How could she refuse?

"It's not an easy story to tell," she said and swallowed hard.

"You listened to me bitch about Haley and basketball," he said simply, as if his statement of actions gave her a free pass to unload her burden upon him. "I've never seen you look that way before. Even with everything that's ever happened in your life."

"What way?"

"Like you're dying inside," he said. "Like you have immense sorrow and pain that you can't escape."

Peyton stared at Nathan with a blank expression on her beautiful face. She had no idea that she wore her scars so visibly. But, perhaps Nathan could see them clearly because he carried similar scars. His family and dreams had been taken away just the same way the disease was taking away her life.

Suddenly, she rushed back into his arms, this time for her comfort more than his. Nathan once again wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him. They stayed that way for a longer while this time as Peyton cried on his shoulder.

He didn't push her.

She would tell him when she was ready.

"What do you wish, Peyton?" he asked, echoing her earlier sentiment. Hoping she could sense his meaning in the words. Hoping she could trust him enough to tell him.

He heard her muttering softly against his ear. "I don't know what I wish…"


End file.
